Quadraphonic

Quadraphonic (pronounced kwod-ruh-fon-ik)

(1) Of, noting, or pertaining to the recording and reproduction of sound over four separate transmission or direct reproduction channels instead of the customary two of the stereo system.

(2) A quadraphonic recording.

(3) A class of enhanced stereophonic music equipment developed in the 1960s.

1969: An irregular formation of quadra, a variant (like quadru) from the older Latin form quadri- (four) + phonic from the Ancient Greek phonē (sound, voice).  All the Latin forms were related quattor (four) from the primitive Indo-European kwetwer (four).  Phonē was from the primitive Indo-European bha (to speak, tell, say) which was the source also of the Latin fari (to speak) and fama (talk, report).  Phonic, as an adjective in the sense of “pertaining to sound; acoustics" was used in English as early as 1793. Those for whom linguistic hygiene is a thing approved not at all of quadraphonic because it was a hybrid built from Latin and Greek.  They preferred either the generic surround sound which emerged later or the pure Latin lineage of quadrasonic (sonic from sonō (make a noise, sound)) which appeared as early as 1970 although it seems to have been invented as a marketing term rather than by disgruntled pedants.  Quadraphonic, quadrasonic and surround sound all refer to essentially the same thing: the reproduction of front-to-back sound distribution in addition to side-to-side stereo.  In live performances, this had been done for centuries and four-channel recording, though not mainstream, was by the 1950s, not uncommon.  Quadraphonic is and adjective but had been used as a noun; the (equally irregular) noun plural is quadraphonics.

Surround sound

Quadraphonic was an early attempt to mass-market surround sound.  It used four sound channels with four physical speakers intended to be positioned at the four corners of the listening space and each channel could reproduce a signal, in whole or in part, independent of the others.  It was briefly popular with manufacturers during the early 1970s, many of which attempted to position it as the successor to stereo as the default standard but consumers were never convinced and quadraphonic was a commercial failure, both because of technical issues and the multitude of implementations and incompatibilities between systems; many manufacturers built equipment to their own specifications and no standard was defined, a mistake not repeated a generation later with the CD (compact disc).  Nor was quadraphonic a bolt-on to existing equipment; it required new, more expensive hardware.

Quadraphonic audio reproduction from vinyl was patchy and manufacturers used different systems to work around the problems but few were successful and the physical wear of vinyl tended always to diminish the quality.  Tape systems also existed, capable of playing four or eight discrete channels and released in reel-to-reel and 8-track cartridge formats, the former more robust but never suited to the needs of mass-market consumers.  The rise of home theatre products in the late 1990s resurrected interest in multi-channel audio, now called “surround sound” and most often implemented in the six speaker 5.1 standard.  Modern electronics and the elimination of vinyl and tape as storage media allowed engineers to solve the problems which beset quadraphonic but there remain audiophiles who insist, under perfect conditions, quadraphonic remains the superior form of audio transmission for the human ear.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Dodge.

First commercially available in 1965, the eight-track cartridge format (which would later become the evil henchman of quadraphonic) convinced manufacturers it was the next big thing and they rushed to mass-production and one genuine reason for the appeal was that the 8-track cartridge was the first device which was practical for use as in-car entertainment.  During the 1950s, the US car industry had offered the option of record players, neatly integrated into the dashboard and in the relatively compact space of a vehicle's interior, the sound quality could be surprisingly high.  Although not obviously designed with acoustic properties optimized for music, the combination of parallel flat surfaces, a low ceiling and much soft, sound absorbing material did much to compensate for the small size and range offered by the speakers.  However, although they worked well when sitting still in showroom or in certain vehicles, on the road things could be different.  The records (the same size as the classic 7 inch (180 mm) 45 rpm "singles") played by means of a stylus (usually called "the needle") which physically traced the grooves etched into the plastic disks rotating at 16.66 rpm which, combined with an etching technique called "ultra micro-grooving" meant the some 45 minutes of music were available, a considerable advance on the 4-5 minutes of the standard single.  The pressings were also thicker than other records, better to resist the high temperatures caused by heat-soak from the engine and the environment although, in places like Arizona, warping was soon reported.  To keep the stylus in the track, the units were fitted with a shock-absorbing, spring enclosure and a counterweighted needle arm.  Improbably, in testing, the system performed faultlessly even under the most adverse road conditions so the designers presented the product for corporate approval.  At that point there was a delay because the designers worked for the Colombia Broadcasting Corporation (CBS) which had affiliations with thousands of radio stations all over the country and no wish to cannibalize their own markets; if people could play records in their cars, the huge income stream CBS gained from advertising would be threatened as drivers tuned out.  The proposal was rejected.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Plymouth.

Discouraged but not deterred, the engineers went to Detroit and demonstrated the players to Chrysler which had their test-drivers subject the test vehicles to pot-holes, railway tracks and rolling undulations.  The players again performed faultlessly and Chrysler, always looking for some novelty, placed an order for 18,000, a lucrative lure which convinced even CBS to authorize production, their enthusiasm made all the greater by the proprietary format of the disks which meant CBS would be the exclusive source.  So, late in 1956, Chrysler announced the option of "Highway Hi-Fi", a factory-installed record player mounted under the car's dashboard at a cost of (US$200 (some US$1750 in 2023 terms)).  Highway Hi-Fi came with six disks, the content of which reflected the reactionary tastes of CBS executives and their desire to ensure people still got their popular music from radio stations but the market response was positive, Chrysler selling almost 4000 of the things in their first year, the early adopters adopting with their usual alacrity.

The second generation of players used standard 45 rpm singles: Austin A55 Farina (left) and George Harrison's (1943–2001) Jaguar E-Type S1 (right); all four Beatles had the players fitted in their cars and lead guitarist Harrison is pictured here stocking his 14-stack array.  The lady on the left presumably listened to different music than the Beatle on the right (although their in-car hardware was identical) but tastes can't always be predicted according to stereotype; although he disapproved of most modern music, Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi deputy Führer 1933-1941) told the governor of Spandau prison (where he spent 40 of his 46 years in captivity) he enjoyed The Beatles because their tunes "were melodic".  

At that point, problems surfaced.  Tested exclusively in softly-sprung, luxury cars on CBS's and Chrysler's executive fleets, the Highway Hi-Fi had to some extent been isolated from the vicissitudes of the road but when fitted to cheaper models with nothing like the same degree of isolation, the styluses indeed jumped around and complaints flowed, something not helped by dealers and mechanics not being trained in their maintenance; even to audio shops the unique mechanism was a mystery.  Word spread, sales collapsed and quietly the the option was withdrawn in 1957.  The idea however didn't die and by the early 1960s, others had entered the field and solved most of the problems, disks now upside-down which made maintaining contact simpler and now standard 45 rpm records could be used, meaning unlimited content and the inherent limitation of the 4 minute playing time was overcome with the use of a 14-disk stacker, anticipating the approach taken with CDs three decades later.  Chrysler tried again by the market was now wary and the option was again soon dropped.

1966 Ford Mustang with factory-fitted 8-track player.

Clearly though, there was demand for in-car entertainment, the content of which was not dictated by radio station programme directors and for many there were the additional attractions of not having to endure listening either to advertising or DJs, as inane then as now.  It was obvious to all tape offered possibilities but although magnetic tape recorders had appeared as early as 1930s, they were bulky, fragile complicated and expensive, all factors which mitigated against their use as a consumer product fitted to a car.  Attention was thus devoted to reducing size and complexity so the tape could be installed in a removable cartridge and by 1963, a consortium including, inter alia, Lear, RCA, Ford & Ampex had perfected 8-track tape which was small, simple, durable and able to store over an hour of music.  Indeed, so good was the standard of reproduction that to take advantage of it, it had to be connected to high quality speakers with wiring just as good, something which limited the initial adoption to manufacturers such as Rolls-Royce and Cadillac or the more expensive ranges of others although Ford's supporting gesture late in 1965 of offering the option on all models was soon emulated.  Economies of scale soon worked its usual wonders and the 8-track player became an industry standard, available even in cheaper models and as an after-market accessory, some speculating the format might replace LP records in the home.

Lindsay Lohan's A Little More Personal (Raw) as it would have appeared if released in the 8-Track format.

That never happened although the home units were widely available and by the late 1960s, the 8-track was a big seller for all purposes where portability was needed.  It maintained this position until the early 1970s when, with remarkable suddenness, it was supplanted the the cassette, a design dating from 1962 which had been smaller and cheaper but also inferior in sound delivery and without the broad content offered by the 8-track supply system.  That all changed by 1970 and from that point the 8-track was in decline, reduced to a niche by late in the decade, the CD in the 1980s the final nail in the coffin although it did for a while retain an allure, Jensen specifying an expensive Lear 8-track for the Interceptor SP in 1971, despite consumer reports at the time confirming cassettes were now a better choice.  The market preferring the cheaper and conveniently smaller cassette tapes meant warehouses were soon full of 8-track players and buyers were scarce.  In Australia, GMH (General Motor Holden) by 1975 had nearly a thousand in the inventory which also bulged with 600-odd Monaro body-shells, neither of which were attracting customers.  Fortunately, GMH was well-acquainted with the concept of the "parts-bin special" whereby old, unsaleable items are bundled together and sold at what appears a discount, based for advertising purposes on a book-value retail price there’s no longer any chance of realizing.

1976 Holden HX LE

Thus created was the high-priced, limited edition Holden LE (not badged as a Monaro although it so obviously looked like one that they've never been known as anything else), in "LE Red" (metallic crimson) with gold pin-striping, Polycast "Honeycomb" wheels, fake (plastic) burl walnut trim, deep cut-pile (polyester) carpet and crushed velour (polyester) upholstery with plaid inserts over vinyl surrounds in matching shades; in the 1970s, this was tasteful.  Not exactly suited to the image of luxury were the front and rear spoilers but they too were sitting unloved in the warehouse so they became part of the package and, this being the 1970s, rear-seat occupants got their own cigar lighter, conveniently located above the central ashtray.  Not designed for the purpose, the eight-track cartridge player crudely was bolted to the console but the audio quality was good and five-hundred and eighty LEs were made, GMH pleasantly surprised at how quickly they sold.  When new, they listed at Aus$11,500, a pleasingly profitable premium of some 35% above the unwanted vehicle on which it was based.  These days, examples are advertised for sale for (Aus$) six-figure sums but those who now buy a LE do so for reasons other than specific-performance.  Although of compact size (in US terms) and fitted with a 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8, it could achieve barely 110 mph (175 km/h), acceleration was lethargic by earlier and (much) later standards yet fuel consumption was very high; slow and thirsty the price to be paid for the early implementations of the emission control devices bolted to engines designed during more toxic times.

1976 Holden HX LE Polycast "Honeycomb" wheel (14 x 7").

The Polycast process used a conventional steel wheel with a decorative face of molded polyurethane, attached with mechanical fasteners or bonded using adhesives (in some, both methods were applied) and although some snobs still call them "fake alloy" wheels, legitimately, they're a category of their own.  Because the rubbery, molded plastic fulfilled no structural purpose, designers were able to create intricate shapes which would then have been too delicate or complex to render (at an acceptable cost) in any sort of metal.  By consensus, some of the Ploycast wheels were among the best looking of the decade and, unstressed, they were strong, durable and long-lasting while the manufacturers liked them because the tooling and production costs were much lower than for aluminium or magnesium-alloy.  Another benefit was, being purely decorative (essentially a permanently attached wheelcover), their use faced no regulatory barriers; US safety rules were even then strict and Citroën at the time didn't both seeking approval for the more exotic "resin" wheels offered in Europe on the SM).

Aftermath of the pace car crash, Indianapolis 500, 29 May 1971; dozens were injured but there were no fatalities, despite impact with the well-populated camera stand being estimated at 60 mph (100 km/h).

The Holden LE's wheels came straight from the Pontiac parts bin in the US where they'd first appeared on the 1971 Firebird Trans-Am.  The concept proved popular with manufacturers and a set of Motor Wheels' "Exiter" (14" x 7", part number 36830 and advertised also as "Exciter") was fitted to the Dodge Challenger Pace car which crashed during the 1971 Indianapolis 500.  The crash was unrelated to the wheels, the driver (one of the Dodge dealers providing the pace car fleet) blaming the incident on somebody moving the traffic cone he'd used in practice as his pit-lane braking marker.    Motor Wheel's advertising copy: “What wheel can survive this beating?” and “...the new wheel too tough for the 'mean machine'” predated the crash at Indianapolis and was intended to emphasise the strength of the method of construction.

Twenty years on, the “parts bin special” idea was a part of local story-telling.  Although most doubt the tale, it's commonly recounted the 85 HSV VS GTS-R Commodores Holden built in 1996 were all finished in the same shade of yellow because of a cancelled order for that number of cars in "taxi spec", the Victorian government having mandated that color for the state's cabs.  While a pleasing industry myth, most suspect it's one of those coincidences and the government's announcement came after the bodies for the GTS-R had already been painted.  Being "taxi yellow" doesn't appear to have deterred demand and examples now sell for well into six figures (in Aus$).      

1971 Holden HQ Monaro LS 350

The overwrought and bling-laden Holden LE typified the tendency during the 1970s and of US manufacturers and their colonial off-shoots to take an elegant design and, with a heavy-handed re-style, distort it into something ugly.  A preview of the later “malaise era” (so named in the US for many reasons), it was rare for a facelift to improve the original.  The HQ Holden (1971-1974) was admired for an delicacy of line and fine detailing; what followed over three subsequent generations lacked that restraint although to be fair, while the last of the series (HZ, 1977-1980) ascetically wasn't as pleasing as the first, dynamically, it was much-improved.   

1973 Ford Falcon XA GT Hardtop (RPO83).

In the era of the LE, Ford Australia had it's own problem with unwanted two-door bodyshells.  Released too late to take advantage of what proved a market fad, Ford’s Falcon Hardtops (XA; 1972-1973, XB; 1973-1976 & XC; 1976-1979) never enjoyed the success of Holden’s Monaro (1968-1976), Chrysler’s Valiant Charger (1971-1978) or even that of Ford’s own, earlier Falcon Hardtop (XM; 1964-1965 & XP; 1965-1966).  The public’s increasing and unpredicted uninterest in the style meant that by 1976, like Holden, Ford had languishing in unwanted in their hands hundreds of body-shells for the big (in Australian terms although in the US they would have been classed “compacts”) coupés.  When released in 1972 Ford’s expectation was it would every year sell more than 10,000 Hardtops but that proved wildly optimistic and not even discounting and some “special editions” did much to stimulate demand.  By 1977 sales had dropped to a depressing 913 and with over 500 bodies in stock, the projection no more than 100 would attract buyers meant a surplus of 400; an embarrassing mistake.

Edsel Ford II with Falcon Cobra #001, publicity shot, Ford Australia's Head Office, Campbellfield, Victoria.  The badge below the Cobra decal reads 5.8; Australia switched to the metric system in 1973 but because of the nature of the machines, almost always the V8s are described either as 302 (4.9) or 351 (5.8), cubic inches being a muscle car motif. 

Scrapping them all had been discussed but in Australia at the time was Edsel Ford II (b 1948), great-grandson of Henry Ford (1863-1947), grandson of Edsel Ford (1893–1943) and the only son of Henry Ford II (1917–1987).  The scion had been sent to southern outpost to learn the family business and been appointed assistant managing director of Ford Australia; his solution profitably to shift the surplus hardtops was hardly original but, like many sequels, it worked.  What Edsel Ford suggested was to use the same approach which in 1976 had been such a success when applied in the US to the Mustang II (1973-1978): Create a dress-up package with the motifs of the original Shelby Mustangs (1965-1968), the most distinctive of which were the pair of broad, blue stripes running the vehicle’s full length.  In truth, the stripes had been merely an option on the early Shelby Mustangs but so emblematic of the breed did they become it’s now rare to see one un-striped.  The blinged-up Mustang IIs had been dubbed “Cobra II” and although mechanically unchanged, proved very popular.  One (unverified) story which is part of industry folklore claims the American’s suggestion was initially rejected by local management and discarded before a letter arrived from Ford’s Detroit head office telling the colonials that if Edsel Ford II wanted a Falcon Cobra with stripes, it must be done.  As Edsel's father once told a Lee Iacocca (1924–2019) who seemed to be getting ideas above his station: "Don't forget my name is on the building". 

Falcon Cobra #31.  The rear-facing bonnet (hood) scoop was the most obvious visual clue identifying the Option 97 (#002-031) cars although the after market responded and it became possible to buy replica scoops as well as the decals and plaques for those who wanted their own "Cobra look".

The Australian cars thus came to be “Cobra” and as well as providing a path to monetizing what had come to be seen as dead stock, the cars would also be a platform with which Ford could homologate some parts for use in racing.  The latter task was easy because in November 1977 Ford had built 13 “special order” XC Hardtops which conformed with the “evolution” rules of the Confederation of Australian Motor Sport (CAMS, then the regulatory body) for homologating parts for Group C touring car events.  Cognizant of the furore which had erupted in 1972 when high-output engines were homologated in road cars, the changes were mostly about durability and included enlarged rear wheel wells to accommodate wider wheels and tyres, a reverse hood (bonnet) scoop which drew desirable cool-air from the low-pressure area at the base of the windscreen, twin electric fans (switchable from the cockpit) which replaced the power-sapping engine-driven fan, a front tower brace (K-brace) which stiffened the body structure, an idler arm brace and front and rear spoilers.

Falcon Cobra #094 which was one of the "fully optioned" of the Option 96 build (#081-200 including the 351 V8, air-conditioning, power steering & power windows).

A prototype Falcon Cobra was built in April 1978 with production beginning the following July.  Unusually, all were originally painted Bold Blue before the areas which would become the stripes and the sill & wheel-arch highlights was masked with a coating of Sno White was painted over the top (thin Olympic (Blaze) Blue accent stripes separated the colors and “Cobra” decals were fitted to the sides and rear).  Each of the 400 built was fitted with a sequentially numbered plaque (001 to 400) on the dash and the production breakdown was:

#001: Created for promotional use, it was allocated for the photo-sessions from which came the images used in the first brochures (351 automatic).

#002-031: The Option 97 run which contained the parts and modifications intended for competition and produced in conformity with CAMS’s “evolution” rules (351 manual).

#032-041: 351 manual with air-conditioning (A/C) & power steering (P/S).

#042-080: 351 manual with A/C, P/S & power windows (P/W).

#081-200: 351 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

#201-300: 302 manual.

#301-360 (except 351): 302 automatic with A/C & P/S.

#351: 351 manual.

#361-400: 302 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

Moffat Ford Dealers team cars in the Hardie-Ferodo 1000 at Bathurst, finishing 1-2 in 1977 (left) and on the opening lap in 1978 (right).  In 1978, the cars (actually 1976 XB models modified to resemble XCs) matched their 1977 qualifying pace by starting second & third on the grid but in the race both recorded a DNF (did not finish). 

The Option 97 run (#002-031) included the modifications fitted to the 13 cars built in November 1997 but also included was engine & transmission oil coolers, a tramp rod (fitted only to the left-side because most racing in Australia is on anti-clockwise circuits and most turns thus to the left) and a special front spoiler which directed cooling air to the front brakes.  Visually, the Option 97 run was differentiated from the rest by the (functional) bonnet scoop and a pair of Scheel front bucket seats (part number KBA90018) in black corduroy cloth. Collectively, the 370 Option 96 and 30 Option 97 made up the 400 SVP (Special Value Pack) that was the Falcon Cobra.  The Cobra’s blue & white livery appeared on the race tracks in 1978 but the best known (the pair run by Allan Moffat's (v 1939) “Moffat Ford Dealers” team were actually modified XB Hardtops built in 1976 and the same vehicles which had completed the photogenic 1-2 at Bathurst in 1977.

Carnival

Carnival (pronounced kahr-nuh-vuhl)

(1) A traveling amusement show, having sideshows, rides etc.

(2) Any merrymaking, revelry, or festival, as a program of sports or entertainment.

(3) In the Christian ecclesiastical calendar, the season immediately preceding Lent, often observed with merrymaking; Shrovetide.

(4) A festive occasion or period marked by merrymaking, processions etc and historically much associated with Roman Catholic countries in the period just before Lent.

(5) A sports meeting.

(6) In literary theory (as the noun carnivalization & verb carnivalize), to subvert (orthodox assumptions or literary styles) through humour and chaos.

(7) In sociology, a context in which transgression or inversion of the social order is given temporary license (an extension of the use in literary theory).

(8) Figuratively, a gaudily chaotic situation.

(9) As a modifier (often as “carnival atmosphere?”) a festive atmosphere.

1540–1550: From the Middle French carnaval, from the Italian carnevale, from the Old Italian carnelevare (taking meat away), from older Italian forms such as the Milanese carnelevale or Old Pisan carnelevare (to remove meat (literally “raising flesh”)) the construct built from the Latin caro (flesh (originally “a piece of flesh”)) from the primitive Indo-European root sker- (to cut) + levare (lighten, raise, remove), from the primitive Indo-European root legwh- (not heavy, having little weight).  Etymologists are divided on the original source of the term used by the Church, the alternatives being (1) carnem levare (to put away flesh), (2) carnem levāmen (meat dismissal), (3) carnuālia (meat-based country feast) and (4) carrus nāvālis (boat wagon; float).  What all agree upon is the ecclesiastical use would have come from one of the forms related to “meat” and the folk etymology favors the Medieval Latin carne vale (flesh, farewell!).  Spreading from the use in Christian feast days, by at least the 1590s it was used in the sense of “feasting or revelry in general” while the meaning “a circus or amusement fair” appears to be a 1920s adoption in US English.  The synonyms can include festival, celebration, festivity, fiesta, jubilee, gala, fete, fête, fest, fair, funfair, exhibit, exhibition, revelry, merriment, rejoicing, jamboree, merrymaking, mardi gras, jollity, revel, jollification, exposition and show.  Which is chosen will be dependent on region, context, history etc and (other than in ecclesiastical use) rules mostly don’t exist but there seem to be a convention that a “sporting carnival” is a less formal event (ie non-championship or lower level competitions).  The alternative spelling carnaval is obsolete.  Carnival & carnivalization are nouns, carnivalize, carnivalizing & carnivalized are verbs, and carnivalic, carnivalistic, carnivalesque, carnivallike, precarnival & noncarnival are adjectives; the noun plural is carnivals.

Not just meat: Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) on fasting for Lent.

Originally, a carnival was a feast observed by Christians before the Lenten fast began and wasn’t a prelude to a sort of proto-veganism.  It was a part of one of religion’s many dietary rules, one which required Christians to abstain from meat during Lent (particularly on Fridays and during certain fast days), carnival the last occasion on which meat was permissible before Easter.  The Christian practice of abstaining from meat evolved as part of a broader theology of penance, self-denial, and imitation of Christ’s suffering, the rationale combining biblical precedent, symbolic associations and early ascetic traditions, the core of the concept Christ’s 40 days of fasting in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1–11, Luke 4:1–13).  Theologically, the argument was that for one’s eternal soul to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, a price to be paid was Imitatio Christi (earthly participation in Christ’s suffering).  Much the early church valued suffering (for the congregants if not the clergy and nobility) and the notion remains an essential theme in some Christian traditions which can be summed up in the helpful advice: “For everything you do, there’s a price to be paid.”

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) in 2016 on his private jet, fasting for Lent.

By voluntarily abstaining from certain foods, Christians imitated Christ’s self-denial and prepared spiritually for Easter: sharing in His suffering to grow in holiness.  Meat was seen a symbol of feasting and indulgence, an inheritance from Antiquity when “flesh of the beasts of the field” was associated with celebration rather than everyday subsistence, the latter something sustained typically by seafood, fruits and grains so voluntarily (albeit at the behest of the Church) choosing temporarily to renounce meat symbolized forgoing luxury and bodily pleasure, cultivating humility and penitence.  As well as the theological, there was also a quasi-medical aspect to what Tertullian (Quintus Septimius Florens Tertullianus, circa 155–circa 220) commended as “forsaking worldly indulgence” in that fasting took one’s thoughts away from earthly delights, allowing a focus on “prayer and spiritual discipline”, strengthening the soul against “sinful temptations”.  Another layer was added by the Patristics (from the Latin pater (father)), a school of thought which explored the writings and teachings of the early Church Fathers.  Although it was never a universal view in Patrology, there were those who saw in the eating of meat a connection to animal sacrifice and blood, forbidden in the Old Testament’s dietary laws and later spiritualized in Christianity, thus the idea of abstinence as a distancing from violence and sensuality.  Finally, there was the special significance of Fridays, which, as "Good Friday" reflected the remembrance of the crucifixion of Christ and his death at Calvary (Golgotha); the early Christians treated every Friday as a mini-fast and later this would be institutionalized as Lent.

Lindsay Lohan arriving at the Electric Daisy Carnival (left) and detail of the accessory worn on her right thigh (right), Memorial Coliseum, Los Angeles, June 2010.  The knee-high boots were not only stylish but also served to conceal the court-mandated SCRAM (Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitor) bracelet.

The allowance of fish during Lent had both pragmatic and theological origins, its place in the Christian diet a brew of symbolism, biblical precedent and cultural context.  As a legal and linguistic point, in the Greco-Roman scheme of things fish was not thought “flesh meat” which was understood as coming from warm-blooded land animals and birds.  Fish, cold-blooded and aquatic, obviously were different and belonged to a separate category, one which Christianity inherited and an implication of the distinction was seafood being viewed as “everyday food” rather than an indulgent luxury.  This was a thing also of economics (and thus social class), the eating of fish much associated with the poorer coastal dwellers whereas meat was more often seen on urban tables.  Notably, there was also in this a technological imperative: in the pre-refrigeration age, in hot climates, often it wasn’t possible safely to transport seafood inland.  The Biblical symbolism included Christ feeding the multitudes with a few “loaves and fishes” (Matthew 14:13–21), several of the apostles were fishermen who Christ called upon to be “fishers of men” (Mark 1:16–18) and the ichthys (fish symbol) was adopted as early Christian emblem for Christ Himself.  Collectively, this made fish an acceptably modest food for a penitential season.  All that might have been thought justification enough but, typically, Medieval scholars couldn’t resist a bit of gloss and the Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) decided abstinence aimed to “curb the concupiscence of the flesh” and, because meat generated more “bodily heat” and pleasure than fish, it was forbidden while fish was not.  That wasn’t wholly speculative and reflected the humoral theory from Antiquity, still an orthodoxy during the Middle Ages: fish seen as lighter, cooler, and less sensual.

Notting Hill Carnival, London.

Traditionally, there was also a Lenten prohibition of dairy products and eggs, each proscription with its own historical and symbolic logic and the basis of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day) and Easter eggs (though not the definitely un-Christian Easter bunny).  The strictness derived partly from Jewish precedents notably the vegetarian edict in Daniel 10:2–3 and the idea of a “return to Edenic simplicity” where man would eat only plants (Genesis 1:29) but also an aversion to links with sexuality and fertility, eggs obviously connected with sexual reproduction and dairy with lactation.  What this meant was early Christian asceticism sought to curb bodily impulses and anything connected with fleshly generation and (even if indirectly), thoughts of sex.

Historically, a time of absolution when confessions were made in preparation for Lent, Shrovetide described the three days immediately preceding Lent (Shrove Sunday, Shrove Monday & Shrove Tuesday, preceding Ash Wednesday).  The construct being shrove +‎ -tide, the word was from the late Middle English shroftyde.  Shrove was the simple past of shrive, from the Middle English shryven, shriven & schrifen, from the Old English sċrīfan (to decree, pass judgement, prescribe; (of a priest) to prescribe penance or absolution), from the Proto-West Germanic skrīban, from the late Proto-Germanic skrībaną, a borrowing from the Latin scrībō (write).  The word may be compared with the West Frisian skriuwe (to write), the Low German schrieven (to write), the Dutch schrijven (to write), the German schreiben (to write), the Danish skrive (to write), the Swedish skriva (to write) and the Icelandic skrifa (to write).  The –tide suffix was from the Middle English –tide & -tyde, from the Old English -tīd (in compounds), from tīd (point or portion of time, due time, period, season; feast-day, canonical hour).  Before refrigeration, eggs and dairy naturally accumulated during springtime as hens resumed laying and animals produced more milk.  Being banned during Lent, stocks thus had to be consumed lest they be wasted so a pragmatic way to ensure economy of use was the pancake (made with butter, milk & eggs), served on the feast of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day).  Following Easter, when eggs returned to the acceptable list, “Easter eggs” were a natural festive marker of the fast’s end.

Carnival Adventure and Carnival Encounter off Australia’s eastern Queensland coast.

Although dubbed “floating Petri dishes” because of the high number of food poisoning & norovirus cases, cruise ships remain popular, largely because, on the basis of cost-breakdown, they offer value-for-money packages few land-based operators can match.  The infections are so numerous because (1) there are thousands of passengers & crew in a closed, crowded environment, (2) an extensive use of buffets and high-volume food service, (3) a frequent turnover of crew & passengers, (4) port visits to places with inconsistent sanitation, health & food safety standards and (5) sometimes delayed reporting and patient isolation.

However, although the popular conception of Medieval Western Christendom is of a dictatorial, priest-ridden culture, the Church was a political structure and it needed to be cognizant of practicalities and public opinion.  Even dictatorships can maintain their authority only with public consent (or at least acquiescence) and in many places the Church recognized burdensome rules could be counter-productive, onerous dietary restrictions resented especially by the majority engaged for their living in hard, manual labor.  Dispensations (formal exceptions) became common with bishops routinely relaxing the rules for the ill, those pregnant or nursing or workers performing physically demanding tasks.  As is a common pattern when rules selectively are eased, a more permissive environment was by the late Middle Ages fairly generalized (other than for those who chose to live by to monastic standards).

Carnival goers enjoying the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras: This is not what Medieval bishops would have associated with the word “carnival” but few events better capture the spirit of the phrase “carnival atmosphere”.

The growth of dispensations (especially in the form of “indulgences” which were a trigger for the Protestant Reformation) was such it occurred to the bishops they’d created a commodity and commodities can be sold.  This happened throughout Europe but, in France and Germany, the “system” became institutionalized, the faithful even able to pay “butter money” for the privilege of eating the stuff over Lent (a kind of inverted “fat tax”!) with the proceeds devoted to that favourite capital works programme of bishops & cardinals: big buildings.  The sixteenth century tower on Normandy’s Rouen Cathedral was nicknamed “Butter Tower” although the funds collected from the “tax” covered only part of the cost; apparently even the French didn’t eat enough butter.  As things turned out, rising prosperity and the population drifts towards towns and cities meant consumption of meat and other animal products increased, making restrictions harder to enforce and the Protestant reformers anyway rejected mandatory fasting rules, damning them as man-made (“Popery!” the most offensive way they could think to express that idea) rather than divine law.  Seeing the writing nailed to the door, one of the results of the Council of Trent (1545–1563) was that while the Church reaffirmed fasting, eggs and dairy mostly were allowed and the ban on meat was restricted to Fridays and certain fast days in the ecclesiastical calendar.

Archbishop Daniel Mannix in his library at Raheen, the Roman Catholic's Church's Episcopal Palace in Melbourne, 1917-1981.

By the twentieth century, it was clear the Holy See was fighting a losing battle and in February 1966, Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) promulgated Apostolic Constitution Paenitemini (best translated as “to be penitent”) making abstinence from meat on Fridays optional outside Lent and retained only Ash Wednesday and Good Friday as obligatory fast days for Catholics.  It was a retreat very much in the corrosive spirit of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965) and an indication the Church was descending to a kind of “mix & match” operation, people able to choose the bits they liked, discarding or ignoring anything tiresome or too onerous.  In truth, plenty of priests had been known on Fridays to sprinkle a few drops of holy water on their steak and declare “In the name of our Lord, you are now fish”.  That was fine for priests but for the faithful, dispensation was often the “luck of clerical draw”.  At a time in the late 1940s when there was a shortage of good quality fish in south-east Australia, Sir Norman Gilroy (1896–1977; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Sydney 1940-1971, appointed cardinal 1946) granted dispensation but the stern Dr Daniel Mannix (1864–1963; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Melbourne 1917-1963) refused so when two politicians from New South Wales (Ben Chifley (1885–1951; prime minister of Australia 1945-1949) and Fred Daly (1912–1995)) arrived in the parliamentary dining room for dinner, Chifley’s order was: “steaks for me and Daly, fish for the Mannix men.”

In the broad, a carnival was an occasion, event or season of revels, merrymaking, feasting and entertainments (the Spanish fiestas a classic example) although they could assume a political dimension, some carnivals staged to be symbolic of the disruption and subversion of authority.  The idea was a “turning upside down of the established hierarchical order” and names used included “the Feast of Fools”, “the Abbot of Misrule” and “the Boy Bishop”.  With a nod to this tradition, in literary theory, the concept of “carnivalization” was introduced by the Russian philosopher & literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin (1895–1975), the word appearing first in the chapter From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse (written in 1940) which appeared in his book The Dialogic Imagination: chronotope and heteroglossia (1975).  What carnivalization described was the penetration or incorporation of carnival into everyday life and its “shaping” effect on language and literature.

The Socratic dialogues (most associated with the writing of the Greek philosophers Xenophon (circa 430–355 BC) and Plato (circa 427-348 BC)) are regarded as early examples of a kind of carnivalization in that what appeared to be orthodox “logic” was “stood on its head” and shown to be illogical although Menippean satire (named after the third-century-BC Greek Cynic Menippus) is in the extent of its irreverence closer to the modern understanding which finds expression in personal satire, burlesque and parody.  Bakhtin’s theory suggested the element of carnival in literature is subversive in that it seeks to disrupts authority and introduce alternatives: a deliberate affront to the canonical thoughts of Renaissance culture.  In modern literary use the usual term is “carnivalesque”, referring to that which seeks to subvert (“liberate” sometimes the preferred word) assumptions or orthodoxies by the use of humor or some chaotic element.  This can be on a grand scale (ie an entire cultural movement) or as localized some malcontent disrupting their book club (usually polite affairs where novels are read and ladies sit around talking about their feelings).

Portrait of Leo Tolstoy (1887), oil on canvas by Ilya Repin (1844-1930), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

He expanded on the theme in his book Problems of Dostoevsky's Poetics (1929) by contrasting the novels of Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) and Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821–1881).  Tolstoy’s fiction he classified as a type of “monologic” in which all is subject to the author's controlling purpose and hand, whereas for Dostoevsky the text is “dialogic” or “polyphonic” with an array of different characters expressing a variety of independent views (not “controlled” the author) in order to represent the author's viewpoint.  Thus deconstructed, Bakhtin defined these views as “not only objects of the author's word, but subjects of their own directly significant word as well” and thus vested with their own dynamic, being a liberating influence which, as it were, “conceptualizes” reality, lending freedom to the individual character and subverting the type of “monologic” discourse characteristic of many nineteenth century authors (typified by Tolstoy).

Portrait of Fedor Dostoyevsky (1872), oil on canvas by Vasily Perov (1834-1882), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

Dostoevsky’s story Bobok (1873) is cited as an exemplar of carnival.  It has characters with unusual freedom to speak because, being dead, they’re wholly disencumbered of natural laws, able to say what they wish and speak truth for fun.  However, Bakhtin did acknowledge this still is literature and didn’t claim a text could be an abstraction uncontrolled by the author (although such things certainly could be emulated): Dostoevsky (his hero) remained in control of his material because the author is the directing agent.  So, given subversion, literary and otherwise, clearly has a history dating back doubtlessly as many millennia as required to find an orthodoxy to subvert, why was the concept of carnivalization deemed a necessary addition to literary theory?  It went to the form of things, carnivalization able especially to subvert because it tended to be presented in ways less obviously threatening than might be typical of polemics or actual violence.

Camembert & Brie

Camembert (pronounced kam-uhm-bair or ka-mahn-ber (French))

(1) A village in the Normandy region of France.

(2) A mellow, soft cheese, the centre of which is creamy and of a golden cream color, made from cow's milk.

1867 (the cheese): The cheese is named after Camembert, the village near Argentan, Normandy where it originated.  The village name was from the Medieval Latin Maimberti (field of Maimbert), a West Germanic personal name derived from the Proto-Germanic maginą (strength, power, might) and the Proto-Germanic berhtaz (bright).  A rich, sweet, yellowish cream-cheese with the name Camembert was first sold in 1867, but the familiar, modern form of the cheese dates from 1791.  Camembert is a masculine form; the strong, genitive Camembertes or Camemberts and there is no plural.

Camembert labels from the Serge Schéhadé collection.

A tyrosemiophile is one for whom collecting the colorful (usually round) labels affixed to wooden boxes of Camembert cheese wheels is (depending on where they sit on the spectrum) variously a hobby, calling or obsession.  The practice is called tyrosemiophilia (the construct being the Ancient Greek tyro (cheese) + semio (sign; label) + philos (love) and while there appears to be no documented use of tyrosemiophobia (morbid dread or aversion to Camembert cheese labels), there’s no reason why someone who suffered some disturbing experience with a wheel of Camembert wouldn’t become a tyrosemiophobe.  Collecting objects with a high degree of structural similarity (Camembert cheese labels, beer bottle tops etc) has much appeal for some and in cultural studies is classed as “connoisseurial collecting”, described as a collecting focused on variations within a narrow type (which can be structural, thematic chronologic etc but tends to exclude much within the field collected by those casting a wider net).  The hobby (or whatever) falls under the rubric of “typological accumulation” in which objects are exemplars of a “type” and while each is to some degree different, their attraction lies in the similarity, something like Karl Marx’s (1818-1883) exasperated description of peasants as “…like a sack of potatoes, all the same, yet all different”.

Camembert labels from the Serge Schéhadé collection.

Whether such things especially draw “obsessional collectors” doesn’t seem to have been studied but the characteristics of the stuff (Camembert cheese labels a classic example): (1) structurally similar objects, (2) tiny differences (colors, typography etc) and (3) adaptability to being stored or displayed in a precise, geometrical form may hint at the personality type attracted.  Cognitive psychology has identified how pleasing some find “variation within sameness” and that seemed in some way linked to PRDW (pattern recognition dopamine reward) in which the brain rewards the subject for creating, modifying or spotting subtle distinctions within a structured set.  Cheese production being an ongoing business, the collecting of Camembert labels is obviously not a closed system but within the whole, it can be possible to achieve “complete sets” (a single producer, region, period etc) and this aspect too is a thing among collectors.

Camembert labels from the Serge Schéhadé collection.

Among producers, there is something of a tradition of making the labels miniature “works of art” with themes including, florals, farm animals, fields of grass, famous (dead) figures from history and, of course, comely milkmaids in period costumes.  There is in France the CTF (Club Tyrosémiophile de France), which has existed since 1960 and still conducts annual conferences (a significant part of which are the “swap-meet” sessions at which members can sell or exchange labels and like any commodity, based on desirability (the prime determinate usually rarity), the value of items varies.  Collectively the club’s inventory now includes several million labels, many of which are on display at the Camembert Museum in Vimoutiers, Normandy and there are plans to digitize the collection and make them publically accessible.  That millions of different cheese labels exist may not surprise those who recall the (apparently apocryphal) quote attributed to Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969): “How can one govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?” because, even in Le Général’s time, the true count was well into four figures.  In a sign of the times, as the CTF’s membership roll dies off, numbers are shrinking because the young seem not attracted to the cause.  Interestingly, it’s said the artistic labels (called étiquettes in French) date from circa 1910 where they were used as means of attracting children, the idea being the same as the little trinkets distributed in breakfast cereal boxes; the small proto-consumers being trained as “influencers” there to persuade their parents to buy more cheese so they could afforce their label collection.  

Brie (pronounced bree)

(1) A mainly agricultural region in north-east France, between the Seine and the Marne, noted especially for its cheese.

(2) A salted, creamy, white, soft cheese, ripened with bacterial action, originating in Brie and made from cow's milk.

(3) A female given name (with the spelling variant Bree), from the French geographical region but also as a truncation of Brianna.

1848 (the cheese): The name of the cheese is derived from the name of the district in department Seine-et-Marne, southeast of Paris, the source being the Gaulish briga (hill, height).  The English brier (a type of tobacco pipe introduced circa 1859) is unrelated to the cheese or the region in France which shares the name.  The pipes were made from the root of the Erica arborea shrub from the south of France and Corsica, from the French bruyère (heath plant) from the twelfth century Old French bruiere (heather, briar, heathland, moor), from the Gallo-Roman brucaria, from the Late Latin brucus (heather), from the Gaulish bruko- (thought linked with the Breton brug (heath), the Welsh brwg and the Old Irish froech).  The noun plural is bries.

Lindsay Lohan with cheese board, rendered by Vovsoft as a pen drawing: Clockwise from top left, Camembert, Shropshire, Morbier, Nerina & Appenzeller.

Before the French crown assumed full-control in the thirteenth century, the region of Brie was from the ninth century divided into three sections ruled by different feudal lords, (1) the western Brie française (controlled by the King of France), corresponding approximately to the modern department of Seine-et-Marne in the Île-de-France region, (2) the eastern Brie champenoise (controlled by the Duke of Champagne), forming a portion of the modern department of Marne in the historic region of Champagne (part of modern-day Grand Est) and (3) the northern Brie pouilleuse, forming part of the modern department of Aisne in Picardy.  As well as the cheese, Brie is noted for the culturing of roses, introduced circa 1795 by the French explorer Admiral Louis-Antoine, Comte de Bougainville (1729–1811).  Papua New Guinea’s (PNG) Bougainville Island and the Bougainvillea flower were both named after him.

Whipped Brie dip.

A trick of commercial caterers, wedding planners and others who have to gain the maximum visual value from the food budget is whipped Brie dip.  Often a feature of charcuterie boards or a flourish at wine & cheese events, apart from the taste, the main attraction is that aerating Brie almost doubles its volume, making it a cost-effective component.  Technically, the reason the technique works so well as a base is the aeration increases the surface area of the material which comes into contact with the taste receptors.  There are few rules about what goes into a whipped Brie dip although honey, salty bacon & lemon-infused thyme tend often to be used, some including crushed walnuts.  Timing has to be managed because it’s at its best just after being prepared and served at room temperature; if it’s chilled it sets hard and becomes difficult to spread and will break any cracker being dipped.  So, it can be a last-minute task but preparation time is brief and it’s worth it.

Brie & Camembert

Wheel of Camembert.

Both thought delicious by cheese fiends, Brie & Camembert are often confused because the appearance is so similar, both soft, creamy cheeses with an edible white rind and tending to be sold in wheels (squat little cylinders) though it’s easier to tell the difference with cheeses made in France because there they usually maintain the convention that a Camembert will be smaller (unless it’s a baby Brie or petit Brie which will be indicated on the label).  Because most Brie is matured in larger wheels, it’s often sold in wedges, rare among Camembert because the wheels are so small.  However, in the barbaric English-speaking world where anything goes, Brie is sometimes sold in smaller sizes.  Traditionally, like most, they were farmhouse cheeses, but have long been produced mostly in larger artisanal cheeseries or on an industrial scale.

Wheel of Brie.

Both originally created using unpasteurized cow's milk, thanks to the dictatorial ways of humorless EU eurocrats and their vendetta against raw milk, they’re now almost always made with pasteurized milk although there remain two AOP (Appellation d'origine protégée (Protected designation of origin)) unpasteurised Bries, Brie de Meaux & Brie de Melun and one AOP Camembert, Camembert de Normandie, said best to be enjoyed with French cider.  As a cheese, Brie is characterized as being refined, polite and smooth whereas a Camembert is more rustic, the taste and texture earthier (food critics like to say it has more of a “mushroomy taste”), cream being added to the curd of Brie which lends it a milder, more buttery finish and double and triple Brie are even more so.  To ensure the integrity of the brand, French agricultural law demands that a double-cream cheese must contain 60-70% butterfat (which results a fat content around 30%+ in the finished product.  Although variations exist, according to calorieking.com.au, Brie contains 30.5g fat and 18.5g protein per 100g and the same amount of Camembert, 25g fat and 19.5g protein.

Visually, if left for a while at room temperature, it’s easier to tell the difference because a Camembert will melt whereas Brie will retain its structure.  Because of the marked propensity to melt into something truly gooey, Camembert is often used in cooking, sometimes baked and paired with cranberry sauce or walnuts but. Like Brie, is also a staple of cheese plates, served with things like grapes or figs and eaten with crackers, crusty bread and just about any variety of wine.  One local tradition in the Brie region was the Brie Noir (a type of longer-ripened Brie) which villagers dipped into their café au lait over breakfast.

La persistència de la memòria (The persistence of memory, 1931), oil on canvas by Salvador Dalí (1904-1989), Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York City.

Salvador Dalí’s (1904-1989) most reproduced and best-known painting, La persistència de la memòria is better known by the more evocative title: Melting clocks.  Amused at the suggestion the flaccidity of the watches was a surreal pondering of the implications of Albert Einstein's (1879-1955) theory of special relativity (1905), Dalí provided an earthier explanation, saying his inspiration came from imagining a wheel of Camembert melting in a Catalan summer sun.  Dali's distortions were of course a deliberate device.  Celebrities who manage inadvertently to produce their own by not quite mastering Photoshop or other image-editing software quickly find the internet an unforgiving critic.  For better or worse, AI artificial intelligence has now reached the point where such manipulation is often close to undetectable.

Turkey, Camembert and cranberry pizza (serves 4)

Ingredients

4 medium pita breads
Olive oil spray
120ml cranberry sauce
1 small garlic clove, minced
80g Camembert, sliced and torn
200g lean shaved turkey breast
8 table spoons parmesan cheese
1 cup rocket leaves

Instructions

(1) Heat oven to 390°F (200°C) conventional or 360°F (180°C) fan-forced and line 2 oven trays with baking paper.

(2) Place pita bread on trays and spray lightly with olive oil.

(3) Mix cranberry sauce with garlic and smear onto the pita bread.

(4) Top with Camembert, shaved turkey and finish with a sprinkling of parmesan.

(5) Bake in the oven for 10-15 minutes until golden and the cheese has melted.

(6) Remove from the oven, sprinkle over rocket leaves and serve.

Phyllo-Wrapped Brie With Hot Honey and Anchovies (serves 10-12)

Ingredients

¼ cup chopped roasted red bell pepper (pre-packaged is fine as well as fresh)
3 oil-packed anchovy fillets, minced
1 garlic clove, finely grated or minced
¾ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
1 pound phyllo (or filo) dough (must be thawed if bought frozen)
10 tablespoons (1¼ sticks) unsalted butter, melted
1 large (about 26 ounces (750 grams)) wheel of Brie
Hot honey (or regular honey (see below)) for serving
Crackers and/or sliced bread, for serving

Instructions

(1) Heat the oven to 425°F (220°F). In a small bowl, stir together the roasted bell pepper, anchovies, garlic, and lemon zest. Set aside.

(2) On a clean work surface, lay out the phyllo dough and cover it with a barely damp kitchen towel to keep it from drying out. Take 2 phyllo sheets and lay them in an 11 × 17-inch rimmed baking sheet. Brush the top sheet generously with melted butter, then lay another 2 phyllo sheets on top the opposite way, so they cross in the centre and are perpendicular to the first two (like making a plus sign). Brush the top sheet with butter. Repeat the layers, reserving 4 sheets of phyllo.

(3) Using a long sharp kitchen knife, halve the Brie horizontally and lay one half, cut-side up, in the centre of the phyllo (you will probably need another set of hands to help lift off the top layer of cheese). Then spread the red pepper mixture all over the top. Cover with the other half of Brie, cut-side down, and then fold the phyllo pieces up around the Brie. There will be a space in the centre on top where the Brie is uncovered, and that’s okay.

(4) Lightly crumple one of the remaining sheets of phyllo and place it on top of the phyllo/Brie package to cover up that space. Drizzle a little butter on top, then repeat with the remaining phyllo sheets, scattering them over the top of the pastry and drizzling a little butter each time. It may look messy but will bake up into gorgeous golden waves of pastry, so fear not.

(5) Bake until the phyllo is golden, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove it from the oven and let it rest for about 15 minutes before drizzling it with the hot honey. Slice (it will be runny) and serve with crackers or bread, and with more hot honey as needed.

Most baked Bries tend to the sweet with layers of jam or chutney beneath the crust but this is a savoury variation using anchovies, garlic, and roasted bell peppers.  A drizzle of honey and the pinch of lemon zest lends the dish a complexity and for the best effect it should be served straight from the oven because that’s when the Brie is at its most seductively gooey.  It’s ideal with crisp crackers or crusty bread for crunch.  The hot honey is a bit of a novelty and those who want to enhance or tone-down the effect can create their own by stirring a pinch or more of cayenne into any mild honey.